


Asylum

by them1ghtypen



Series: A Fire Still Burns: Anthology [6]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, But they find each other again, F/M, Full Shift Werewolves, Lost Love, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-20 13:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/them1ghtypen/pseuds/them1ghtypen
Summary: Werewolves weren’t real. Werewolves didn’t exist. But Rukia knew better. Even in the insane asylum, she still believed they were real. She had to believe they were real, or she would fade away.





	Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> One of my newest ideas. It’s a long one-shot, but absolutely one of my favorites I’ve written in a while. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

_His hands slid up her arms, their gentleness in direct contrast with the calluses scraping over her skin. She lay on her back, the room dark, her body surrounded by the coarse motel sheets. She exhaled heavily, her own hands roaming over his back. Her fingertips grazed each scar, some jagged, others smooth and mostly healed. She breathed him in, chills racing down her spine when his breath fanned over the side of her neck._

_“I love you,” he whispered. Her heart jumped._

_Shakily, her hands cradled his face. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Even if we have to keep running, all the time, I’ll go with you. I love you, too.”_

_Breath whooshed out of his lungs as his eyes closed, and she could almost feel his relief, as well as smell the lingering scent of blood in the air. No matter how far, she would follow him._

“Rukia?” 

_Once again, her hands traced his scars. She looked at him, trying to portray with her eyes what was lodged in her throat. She loved each and every one of them, especially the new scars that were still pink and inflamed. Those were earned while protecting her, keeping her safe from those that would hurt her._

_“You’re beautiful. Inside and out,” he said quietly. “You’ve never once seen me as a monster. Especially after –”_

_“I told you: I could never see you as a monster. You’re powerful, but you use that to protect people. You don’t kill because you want to. You have to kill to survive. Look at me.” Her hands slid back to his face, and after a moment, his eyes looked back at hers. The irises glowed yellow, but she wasn’t afraid. “You are a good man.”_

_He swallowed difficultly and shuddered. “It’s so hard to describe… He’s here, listening. He wants your approval so badly.” He cleared his throat. “So do I.”_

_She smiled, and she saw his eyes jump over her face, trying to look at every part at once. “I’ll show you. I love you. Always.” She lifted her hips to his, reveling in the groan that raked through his body, his hands that sporadically tightened near her shoulder blades. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, drawing his lips down until he kissed the skin just over her heart._

“Miss Kuchiki?”

Her vision blurred as she blinked quickly. She was no longer in a darkened hotel room, but surrounded by white – white everywhere. It used to represent light. White brightened everything into an array of colors – the red and blue and yellow of meadow flowers, or the hunter green of forests. These lightened colors made a whole variety of shades, like the mixture of red and yellow to create the vibrant orange reflected during a sunset.

Orange… Just the thought of the color caused her heart to tremble.

“Miss Kuchiki? Pay attention, please.”

She turned her head slowly, looking across the table at the man that had singlehandedly choked her spirit. He looked like a rat, and sounded like one to her. His face was long, his nose pointed, glasses resting slightly askew on account of his uneven ears. His hair was mousy grey and thinning. She knew his name – Dr. Sanders – but to her, he would always be Rat-man.

Time and time again he had suffocated her as one would deprive a candle flame of oxygen. Her spirit still flickered – on and off – but it was too weak now to provide her with any retaliation.

“Did you hear a word I just said?”

At her blank stare, the man shifted uncomfortably. Was he happy? Was he happy that she stared at him dazedly, doped on tranquilizers?

 _He should be_ , something in her snarled. _He’s tried to suppress us, but we won’t be bound for long. Wake up. I smell something familiar…_

 _No,_ she whispered. _You’re a figment of my imagination_. Wasn’t it? For so long she had believed it was real, but now, after so much time spent here with Rat-man forcing meds down her throat and psychology into her ears, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

 “Rukia?”

Her soul flickered. Something in her gaze sharpened. The way he voiced her name squealed on the chalkboard in her mind. “It’s Miss Kuchiki,” she whispered. 

Rat-man’s eyebrows rose, and the corner of his mouth smirked. “Are you listening then, Miss Kuchiki?” Rat-man’s voice was condescending, and once again her medication seemed to sap away her energy. She pressed her lips together in disappointment. “Well,” he continued, “since you do seem to be paying attention: do you know what this is?”

She sluggishly glanced to her right at what Rat-man had gestured with his head, and frowned. The other voice in her head snarled and snapped its jaws like a rabid dog, but for all its struggling, the drugs kept hold of her. She knew she should feel angry, indignant, but it was fleeting.

“It’s a TV,” she said thickly. 

“Yes. And do you know why it’s here?”

That stupid, disgusting, patronizing man. She wanted to punch him in the face. She wanted to yell and scream and snap her jaws just as her other voice – that wasn’t real – wanted to do. But she knew it was pointless.

“To show me…my progress.” Her words were slurred and slow.

“Good God, Sanders, what the hell is this?”

Rukia furrowed her eyebrows. When had another man been in the room? Had she simply not noticed him? He looked a little blurry, but she could see he had short hair black as pitch. His eyes looked brown, but she couldn’t tell for sure, and she didn’t want to squint at him and look stupid. _No more than I already do._

“Oh, relax, Dr. Kurosaki.” Sanders waved away the man’s concern. “I told you she was an interesting patient. One I can build an entire career on. Hell, she’ll make me millions.”

“You told me that. _What_ is it about her that will make you millions?” The man sounded as disgusted as Rukia felt, but it was all partially underwater. Her ears still felt stuffy.

“I can’t tell you that, yet. You’ve got to just listen to her story. Even you’ll admit she’s insane. I need to show you her progression. I’ve had to stick her on Valium and Xanax because she kept attacking me. You’ll see. I had to up the dosage last month because even on a normal prescription she still managed to try to attack me.”

She just barely saw the dark-haired man send Sanders a look.

“Oh, please, Dr. Kurosaki. Mixing the drugs simply affects her cognitive, CNS and motor functions so she doesn’t have as much control over her body.”

“I should sue you for malpractice, Sanders. That’s not only wrong; it’s invasive.”

Rat-man rounded on the dark haired one. “Look, if you had a case like hers, you’d do this, too. There is nothing wrong with using her if it’s for the greater good.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” the man growled. “And greater good my ass, Sanders. Didn’t concepts like genocide originate from the basis of ‘greater good’?”

A chill ran unbidden up Rukia’s spine. A moment of clarity allowed her to sense that this other man was dangerous, but Sanders – like the idiot he really was – either didn’t see it or didn’t care.

“Jealous, Kurosaki?”

Even drugged, Rukia felt the man’s anger as if it were a living, writhing being. Who was he?

“People are not playthings, Sanders!”

The medication wasn’t anywhere near wearing off, but her eyesight was a little less blurry now that she was furiously blinking her eyes. She needed to see this man’s face clearer. He somehow looked vaguely familiar.

“Who are you?” she whispered slowly.

Both men turned to stare at her, but she only looked at this man. Hadn’t she seen him before? As he stared at her, the anger seemed to wither from his eyes. He tilted his head, looking at her strangely.

“Miss Kuchiki,” Sanders said, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses higher up his witch’s nose. “This is Dr. Isshin Kurosaki. He specializes in…strange cases such as yours. Since you’ve been here for over a year without progress –”

“I have made progress.” She didn’t say it loudly. It was evenly spoken, and only after the words left her mouth did she taste anger’s lingering bitterness. She begged her mind to clear, but it remained foggy, dull. “In the last…six months, haven’t I been…good?”

Isshin made a sound of disgust in his throat, but Sanders didn’t spare him a glance. “Your outburst last month was around the sixth month mark. That was why we had to increase your medication, Rukia.”

He spoke to her like a parent would a five-year-old, and under the table, her hands slowly curled into fists. She wanted to cry. She _wasn’t_ a child. She _wasn’t_ stupid. But most of all, she _wasn’t_ crazy. She _couldn’t_ be. If she were, being here would mean Rat-man was _right_ , and he couldn’t be right.

“We thought that perhaps you were succeeding, getting better, but it turns out you weren’t. So we need to start over. When you show progress, we’ll start discussing the terms of your release.”

“No,” she whispered, and suddenly, despite the drugs she saw it in his eyes. She saw the truth as if he’d simply said it out loud. “You won’t. You’re never going to let me go…are you?”

Rat-man cleared his throat and sent a surreptitious glance at Isshin before gesturing to the TV. “Let’s look at your last two infractions.” He pointed towards the TV with a remote and the mobile unit clicked on. He turned to Isshin. “Once you see these, you’ll know why I had to drug her with _both_ medications. She’s a danger to society.”

Despite feeling Isshin’s eyes on her, she couldn’t help her own from watering. She hadn’t always been like this…right? Despair clutched at her heart as she realized she couldn’t quite remember so clearly anymore.

His voice floated to her ears from the television, and she turned to look. They were sitting just as they were now: Rat-man with a clipboard and pencil in his hands, one leg crossed over the other, and Rukia sat across from him. In the video, though, her hands were on the table, and she knew at that time she hadn’t been drugged.

“All right, Miss Kuchiki; let’s take a look.” He flipped through notes that she was sure he’d already memorized. “You’ve made a lot of improvement.”

She nodded quickly. Her eyes were hopeful on the screen, and looking at herself, Rukia felt disgust burn in her gut. She’d been sure she had been the one in charge, but oh how Rat-man had played her right back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Kurosaki shake his head in distaste.

The Rukia on the screen leaned forward. “I have been good. You said that I’d be able to see my family – my brother – if I showed improvement.”

Rat-man hesitated. “Yes, but that was over a sixth month period.”

Her tiny fists clenched. “But I did improve. You just said so yourself. It’s… It’s been sixth months, Dr. Sanders… I miss my brother.”

He sighed and took off his glasses. “Miss Kuchiki…”

“You promised.” Her voice sounded pathetic, weak and accusatory all at the same time. “You promised.”

“I have. But you’ve had outbursts before. I admit you are doing much better but we can’t know for sure, Rukia.”

“ _Don’t_ say my name,” she growled, and watching herself, Rukia was suddenly struck with the thought of how much she really did sound like an animal.

Rat-man exhaled on the screen condescendingly. “See, Rukia, it’s little things like this that make me doubt you are truly better. How can we establish trust and improvement if you still refuse to let me address you in the normal way?”

She started rocking slowly back and forth, her hands fisting in her overly large, white t-shirt. “It’s not proper,” she whispered. “Brother said it’s not proper.”

Besides her close friends and family, only one other person had ever called her Rukia. Nothing could ever replace the way his voice formed her given name as his hands caressed her face, his kiss sweet on her lips and his body close to hers.

“Oh, please, Rukia,” Rat-man scoffed. “Your brother is old fashioned. Not to mention he’s got a stick so far up his ass—”

Rukia’s head snapped up so quickly she was surprised she hadn’t gotten whiplash. The words poured out sharp and caustic. “Don’t talk about my brother that way.”

Somehow, ever so slightly, her eyes looked as if they changed colors. Rukia blinked. Even though she had seen this footage a couple times, she had never noticed _that_ before. She glanced at Isshin. His eyes watched the screen intensely, and his mouth pressed into a line.

On the television screen, Dr. Sanders uncrossed his legs and stood. “And this, Rukia, is why you are not seeing your family. Your behavior now rejects any previous improvement you may have made. I bet all this time you were pretending to try to fool me. Well, it didn’t work. Warden, take her back to her room.”

Suddenly, Rukia launched herself over the table. She managed to reach Dr. Sanders and plow one fist into his face before two white suits hauled her off of him.

“You liar!” she shouted. “You mother-fucking liar!” She struggled, and for a moment, it looked like she would be able to dislodge the men’s hold on her. A growl rumbled deep in her throat.

“Tranq her!” Rat-man shouted, slowly standing and wiping his lip with the back of his hand. Someone else rushed up and plunged the needle into her arm. Within moments, her struggles ceased and she collapsed.

The video paused, and though she could tell Rat-man was staring at her, Rukia continued to keep her eyes on the TV.

“Do you remember that day, Ru – Miss Kuchiki?”

“Yes,” she whispered, but she still refused to look at him. She hadn’t missed his hesitation over her name. He knew that if he wanted her full cooperation to call her by her formal name. Too many times already she had refused to cooperate, and no drug would help change that.

“What went wrong?”

“You insulted my brother.”

Rat-man stiffened, and sent a glance at the white suits standing behind her. He was a fool to think Rukia didn’t see it. She heard one of them pull something out of his pocket. Rukia wouldn’t be able to defend herself, even though the numbing white noise in her ears was finally dimming and her eyes were sharper. The drugs were still too fresh, but she knew that Rat-man wanted to give her more.

“Enough, Sanders,” Isshin growled. His hand gripped Rat-man’s arm, and his voice was deadly. “You give her any more tranquilizers and I _will_ sue you for anything and everything you are worth. You remember Gin Ichimaru?”

Rukia watched the exchange, noticed Rat-man’s ever-increasing painful expression. But at the mention of this Ichimaru character, Rat-man’s face paled.

“He is my attorney as well as a close friend. You don’t want to deal with _him_ , do you?”

“No,” he whispered.

“Then tell your man to _stand down_.”

He nodded, and Rukia saw the white suit put the needle and syringe back in his pocket. Isshin let go, and Rat-man grunted, rubbing his arm. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and fumbled with a few papers, neck reddening. 

“Fucking coward,” Isshin said lowly.

Rat-man’s whole face turned redder than a tomato, and Rukia shot a thankful glance Kurosaki’s way. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Rat-man, and the doctor opened and closed his mouth like a fish before he finally produced the words he was looking for.

“You want to know why she’s drugged? Take a look at this! Stupid, arrogant…” His insults tapered off as he forwarded the video. Rat-man nearly broke the remote as he pressed play, and sat back with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

On video he looked just as frustrated as before, and nearly tore the glasses off of his face. “Do you know why you’ve been drugged, Rukia?”

She stayed silent, and she remembered that he’d tried that whole session to get her to talk, but he’d continuously used her first name. While the drugs had worn off – they were getting less effective as her body grew resistant – she pretended they still affected her, and stared off listlessly into space.

For a minute, silence reigned before Rat-man furiously stood and pounded his fist on the table. “Miss Kuchiki, answer me!”

Her eyes looked to him first, then her head swiveled. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he shouted.

“Yes, I know why I’ve been drugged,” she said sluggishly. She continued to stare at him, and a fire slowly smoldered behind her eyes. She knew the answer, but she forced herself to ask, “When can I see my brother?”

He cleared his throat and sat down, running a hand over his tie. “I’m afraid that won’t be for a while. Since you’ve been placed on sedatives, that forces me to rethink everything we’ve been doing for the past year.”

She shook slightly. “I don’t understand.” Her mouth burned as it formed the words.

Once again, that patronizing look skewed his features. “Needing drugs is a major recession, Miss Kuchiki. Especially since you were very cooperative in the beginning. Usually, people want to stay in their current path. They do not wish to be free of their drugs or alcohol or other addictive tendencies. But for those that have a mental illness… It is different.”

Her knuckles whitened. “I’m not crazy,” she said lowly.

Rat-man continued as if he didn’t hear her. “They strive to improve, take their prescribed medication. Only after a while do they somehow seem to…regress. After that it is harder to keep them honest.”

Across the table, her eyes burned. “I haven’t regressed.”

“You came of your brother’s wishes, though you didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with your mind. I had thought we finally made a breakthrough when you admitted to me the voice in your head, but unfortunately…” He shook his head as if he were sorry. “You have regressed, Miss Kuchiki. It may be some time before you can see any family.”

Rukia shook as she looked at herself on the screen, and remembered the voice that had begged her to attack. Suddenly, she could see the war within herself.

“Perhaps we should go about a different means of incentive?” Rat-man continued on screen. “We have let you have some outside time, but maybe if we take that away, give you smaller steps to achieve to that it will help you succeed. We will prescribe a new medication, one that is in its test stages—”

“I won’t be a guinea pig,” she snarled.

“Let’s make it two years until she can even be considered for family visits. Two months of improvement before she can go back outside. We’ll transfer her to the West Rooms – those are padded, and—”

Before anyone could really respond, Rukia had leapt from the chair opposite of Rat-man. One hand extended, she swiped it down. Her nails split his cotton shirt, and drops of blood pooled along four scratches to his chest. A fierce growl echoed around the room as the guards suddenly burst into action and grabbed for her. She tossed them both off before pouncing on Rat-man and shoving him to the floor. She swung once more, but Rat-man put up an arm to block her, and her nails scored deep gouges in his flesh.

One guard plunged a tranquilizer into any part of her he could touch – which happened to be her thigh. With a grating cry she wrenched around and shoved him back. He hit the wall hard. Soon, though, the drugs kicked in, and she collapsed.

Rat-man stopped the tape.

Rukia looked to Dr. Kurosaki, and saw the conflict in his eyes.

“Not even you would survive that unscathed,” Sanders said to Isshin.

Isshin allowed a corner of his mouth to turn – the corner Sanders could not see. But he said nothing.

“So, here you are now, Miss Kuchiki.” Sanders looked at Rukia, and she was once again reminded how much she wanted to gouge out his eyes. If only she could muster the proper anger and movement to accompany it. But the drugs had yet to relinquish their grip.

“Now that Dr. Kurosaki has seen what you are capable of, let’s tell him why you were sent here.”

Startled, Rukia flashed her eyes first to Sanders, then to Isshin. She swallowed thickly. “You told me I shouldn’t talk about it. You told me it was…all in my head.”

“There is no change in that,” Sanders said kindly, but Rukia could hear the deception in his voice. “But since Dr. Kurosaki’s clinic deals with the especially difficult cases, he needs to hear the tales you told to determine whether or not your case warrants…” Here, Sanders glanced at Isshin and cleared his throat, and Rukia saw the warning in his eyes. He continued. “Whether or not your case warrants you to be transferred to his clinic for more…specialized care.”

The voice chuffed. _Ah, so that is why. He does not want us to leave. He wants us to himself._

The small discovery cleared her head momentarily, and she knew it was a trap. “No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “I won’t say it.” She stared at Rat-man. “I know you, and if I tell him, you will make me stay longer. You will keep me here, and I will never get out.”

Rat-man opened his mouth, looking pathetically offended, when Isshin cut in quietly. “I would like to know your story, Rukia. Sanders won’t keep you any longer than he needs to; I _will_ sue him for everything he’s worth, and right now, it’s not much. I can afford it, but can you, Sanders?”

Dr. Kurosaki’s eyes glinted like steel, and his voice was equally immovable. Sanders shifted. Her breath hitched. She didn’t want to hope, but she desperately wanted someone on her side. Was he?

Rukia looked at him, his eyes open and non-judgmental. She swallowed thickly and plunged ahead. “He came out of nowhere. I was just walking home that night from work – it wasn’t far and my car was in the shop. Bus transit would have taken hours…” She swallowed. “I wasn’t stupid enough to go into an alley, but he grabbed me. He was huge…”

For so long she had suppressed the memories, and they came back with a vengeance. She could feel the sharp teeth tear through her skin as if it were butter, smell his fetid breath on her body. He jerked his massive head, and he dragged her into an alley.

“Rukia?”

Her head snapped up, but it wasn’t Rat-man that spoke. Isshin looked at her, concern but also something else unreadable on his face. That voice… There was something familiar in the way it formed her name, but the tone was still different.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She pushed her unwashed black hair out of her face.

“Can you go on?”

She nodded. Just remembering had her mind returning sharply to reality. The events were too real to have been imagined. She _wasn’t_ crazy, not when she could remember the acrid fear that had possessed her body when she’d looked into those horrible yellow eyes.

Rat-man sent a glare Isshin’s way.

“His jaws clamped on my arm, and dragged me into the alley. I was so scared; I don’t even know if I managed to scream. I just remember those eyes…yellow, shaped like an animal’s, but I could _read_ them. It was like they were human.”

The jaws inside her mind snapped, and she suddenly clamped her mouth shut. Those musings had been what deposited her here in the first place.

She spared a glance at Isshin, and his brow was deeply furrowed.

When she remained silent for a few minutes, Isshin looked at her, and Rat-man said, “Come on, Rukia. Show the man your scar.”

If he hadn’t been subject to it numerous times, the glare she shot him would have made him wither on the spot. Unfortunately, he stared at her, crossing his arms the longer she remained laconic.

“Show him what you did to yourself!” Rat-man shouted, standing suddenly and pounding a fist on the table. Rukia remained resolutely silent. Her eyes burned.

Rukia tore her eyes away when she felt a slight pressure on her hand. The contact singed all the way up her arm and stuttered in her chest. Isshin, too, looked shocked, and inclined his head. He retracted his hand and cleared his throat.

“Will you show me, Rukia?”

Her throat closed. Rat-man plopped back in his chair with a curse, but she looked only at Isshin. She nodded slowly. Not once had she sensed duplicity from this man, and she’d gotten very good at reading people recently. Extending her right arm forward, she pushed back the large sleeve. The scars were harder to see now that her skin had paled from lack of sunshine, but somehow, she knew Isshin could see them.

Adorning the middle of her right forearm were nearly a dozen tooth marks. Isshin’s stare turned dark.

“You say he dragged you?”

Indignation rose in her chest. “Look, I know it sounds impossible, but I can’t explain it. My arm was ripped open and his jaws crushed the bones. Within a few days…” Rukia huffed and ran a hand through her hair. She caught Isshin’s eyes looking at her, waiting for her to continue. “Within a few days my arm healed,” she said quietly. “The skin healed in a couple hours. Only his teeth’s puncture wounds scarred.”

Isshin’s frown deepened.

“Yes, and you did that to yourself, didn’t you?” Rat-man spoke loudly, obviously attempting to get control of the situation. And Rukia repeated what had been pounded into her head for the past year.

“Yes.”

But her voice fell flat. Isshin scrutinized her, and with a look of understanding, he nodded. Hope blossomed in her chest. Did this doctor believe her?

“Please continue,” he said softly.

“Well, he seemed to laugh…” She trailed off, sending a wary look at Isshin. Despite desperately wanting him on her side, she still doubted. He was still a damned psychologist.

Those eyes of his swept through hers as if he could read her mind. “Please tell me. Even if it sounds crazy, I want to hear it, Rukia.”

Her chest ached at the way he said her name – like someone that believed her, like someone that…cared for her. She couldn’t help it. She licked her lips and continued.

“I could barely see him, but he looked like a giant wolf. And he laughed at me, this weird, rough sound. I couldn’t even move. Suddenly, something charged at him from the side. It was just as big, but I couldn’t really see them in the dark. I could hear them snarling and fighting, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but I didn’t get very far – my eyes were blurry and the pain was too much for me. I don’t remember collapsing.”

She fidgeted, but kept her eyes on the table. “When I woke up, I was in this place I’d never seen before. My arm was bandaged, but it no longer throbbed so badly. This man walked in. He was bloody, and I tried to run away, but he grabbed me again, telling me he wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Isshin suddenly stilled, his eyes staring blankly at the clipboard on the table.

“He told me he was the one that bandaged me. He told me there were people after me because of my connection to my brother. They’d hired… They’d hired… _werewolves_ …to dispose of me. He told me that I had to leave with him; he was going to protect me and keep me safe. He’d been assigned to help me.”

She could remember the panic, the confusion during that conversation, but she had never felt so safe as she had sitting there with him. A wistful smile graced her face. “He had the strangest orange hair I’ve ever seen. His name was Ichigo…”

A strangled sound made its way out of Isshin’s throat, and she looked at him. His eyes were wide. He blinked furiously, and clenched his fists. Rukia leaned away. Was it something she’d said? 

Rat-man kept trying to interrupt, but for a few minutes, she and Isshin ignored him and stared at each other. She had the strangest feeling that he was remembering something. His eyes burned, but she knew, somehow, that it wasn’t directed at her. He was angry, but he looked at her as if he had just recovered something precious.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Rukia. Please continue.”

“There was a lot of fighting.” She coughed. “Other werewolves kept coming after us, and time and time again Ichigo protected me. He came close to dying one time…”

“Did he ever shift in front of you?” Isshin asked.

Rukia tilted her head. How strange. He had said shift. Neither Rat-man nor her brother had ever referred to it that way, even though she had continuously used that word around them. The drugs were starting to fade, but they still prevented her from trying to link those thoughts together.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “Two werewolves attacked us after…” She cleared her throat, and a flush mottled her neck. “They attacked us outside of a motel. I hadn’t ever seen Ichigo shift before, but this time he did. It was amazing…and horrific. I could hear his bones cracking. Fur sprouted out of his skin. I could hear his pain mixed with his growls as he changed…”

Her eyes closed as she remembered. The rain poured onto the earth in sheets. She could taste the panic on the air, smell the pungent odor of wet dog, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. “He was a big wolf, a mix between black, grey and tan, like his fur couldn’t decide exactly what color it was.” A soft smile once again tugged at the corners of her mouth. “He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Isshin let out a breath, and she turned her eyes towards him. The expression on his face made her think he was engrossed in her memories, too.

“He killed both werewolves, and almost died himself. I tried to take care of him as best as I could. The next morning, I was woken up by these men bursting through the motel door. Ichigo still hadn’t recovered although he was better, but they threw me down and knocked me out. When I woke up I was on my brother’s porch.”

Her throat closed, and she clenched her fists. “I don’t…” A sob rose in her chest so fiercely she could barely breathe. Her eyes watered. “I don’t even know…if he’s still alive. I thought that maybe if he had lived, he would come back for me. I searched for him. I searched for him for so long.” She swallowed difficultly. “My brother got tired of hearing about him. So he brought me here.”

Tears stung behind her eyes, and she couldn’t see her hands in front of her. In her heart she had forcefully buried Ichigo months ago, secluded to an area brushed with dirt but always on her mind. She hadn’t realized how painful it still was.

“Rukia?”

Isshin’s face blurred in front of her, but she tried to look at him.

“What happened? Why did you search for him for so long?”

“Dammit, Kurosaki, you’re here to see how insane she is. She’s already proved that ten times over. There is no need to question the whole story. It is obviously untrue, not to mention—”

Rukia reeled back, trying to slam the door to her heart, but it was too late. His hurtful words slithered past and coiled in her chest. She was so caught up in remembering that she forgot Sanders was right here, ready to drug her, to keep her here as his personal test subject. And slowly, she was beginning to believe she _was_ insane.

“Shut up, Sanders,” Isshin snarled. “ _I’m_ the specialist. And if I want to know the story, I will ask any question I want.” He turned back to Rukia, and she saw his eyes soften, but not with pity.

She inhaled sharply. Did he believe her?

“Please, Rukia,” he whispered. “Tell me what happened.”

“The two werewolves that attacked us outside of the hotel… We’d been running for a while and had a small head-start. We didn’t realize how close they were, but…” She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice stronger. “We started talking, and he told me that his wolf recognized me somehow as someone he would stay with forever. He called me his soulmate.” But her voice hitched, and she barely got the next few words out. “We…well we… s-slept together – that night.”

A shuttering breath hollowed her chest, and her eyes drifted to her left arm. She twirled it slowly.

“What is that?” Isshin asked.

“It’s a 3D tattoo,” she whispered. “My brother wouldn’t believe me. So I had this tattoo made of Ichigo…” She held out her arm and heard Isshin’s gasp. It was a beautifully done tattoo, and she never once regretted that she had it. On the inside of her forearm near her elbow, the big wolf was black and tan, its eyes remorseful. Its right paw extended towards her wrist, and as it reached for her hand, the tattoo changed. The furry paw morphed into a human hand, the fingers tattooed past her knuckles.

“As if he’s holding your hand,” Isshin said quietly. Rukia threw her eyes on Isshin, and her lips trembled. He continued. “When you clench your fist, it’s like you’re holding on to him.”

“Yes.” How did he know? Her voice broke. “So I’d never forget him.” 

The spell broke when Rat-man chuckled, and Rukia’s anger rose sharp and poisonous. The drugs were finally relinquishing their hold on her, and she felt the presence in her mind as if it were a living being. _Was_ she crazy? Hadn’t Ichigo described his wolf in this manner? She couldn’t completely remember, but its anger mirrored hers.

Rat-man nudged Isshin. “See what I mean? I can make a fortune off of this girl. Can you believe that? Werewolves? Sleeping with a werewolf? Not only is that crazy but god, what a whore,” he said out of the side of his mouth.

Rukia glared as Rat-man’s words thrust her sharply back to reality. What she’d had with Ichigo was special. How dare he say that! How could she forget these white walls? She’d fallen into Rat-man’s trap. Now there was no way she would ever be free of him.

Isshin gave Rat-man a look, and Rukia had never seen such deadly intentions in someone’s eyes. Rat-man snapped his mouth closed, and paled slightly. Isshin packed up his clipboard, nonchalant as if he hadn’t just looked at Sanders like he’d skin him alive. 

“Rukia Kuchiki will no longer be in your care, Sanders. She will hereby be officially transferred to my clinic and will be my patient.”

“What? Screw this, Kurosaki!” Sanders shouted as he leapt out of his chair. “There is no way you are taking her away from me! Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have told you about her!”

Isshin stood slowly, eyes on Sanders. “You didn’t tell me about her. I found out from someone else.”

Sanders’ face reddened. “Who told you?”

“Leave the room. I need to talk to Rukia alone for a moment.”

“Who told you?” he shouted louder.

Rukia looked at the both of them, unsure what to think of the new situation. She would be free of Rat-man, and while Isshin seemed like a much better option, there wasn’t any guarantee that he would be.

“Get out,” Isshin reiterated. “And take your goddamn white suits with you.”

Sanders refused to move, seething. With a frustrated noise, Isshin grabbed a large fistful of the doctor’s jacket and dragged him to the door, throwing him out of the room amidst Sanders’ exclamations. Isshin stared down the two other men in the room, and they left quietly. Quickly, he flipped the lock. 

Rukia fidgeted as Isshin pulled up a chair. She blinked. He didn’t set it across the table from her, as Rat-man had always done, but next to her. Placing his elbows on his knees, he stared at her. 

“I need you to show as little emotion as possible. Can you do that?”

Slowly, she nodded, trying to keep her face impassive. What was he up to?

He spoke low enough that no one outside the room would hear him. “I _am_ transferring you to my clinic, but Sanders will no doubt attempt to keep you here. So, I will be coming for you tonight. When does this facility technically close?”

“Five to the general public. Ten for most doctors and guards. A few sometimes remain until eleven.”

“Most?”

Rukia nodded slowly. “Sanders usually leaves around ten. He only has a guard or two posted near my room. Most of the time, it’s only one guard and an intern. He has them watch me at night.” Rukia glanced at his clenched fists. “Why are you getting me tonight?”

“You’ll understand once I get you out. Do you think Sanders will move you?”

“He might. The only place I can think of is the Basement.”

“The Basement?”

“Yes. A few patients have gone down there and I haven’t ever seen them since. I know which hall leads there, but beyond that door, I don’t know.” She shivered. 

“Okay.” Isshin sighed and put his hands on Rukia’s small, thin shoulders. “Don’t give anything away. Sanders can’t know.”

“Not a word,” Rukia breathed. 

Isshin nodded once, then stood. Without looking back, he exited the room. A few heated words passed between him and Sanders, but from where Rukia sat, Isshin looked the winner. She desperately hoped so.

But at the look Sanders sent her way, she had a feeling tonight wouldn’t be easy. 

-00-

Slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges, he ripped off his black wig and stomped to his father’s office. He burst in, chest heaving, a growl already rumbling in his throat.

“Old man, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

His father swiveled in his chair. “Ah, Ichigo, you’re back.”

“Don’t ‘Ichigo’ me,” he fumed. “You knew she was there. Somehow you _knew_.”

The older man sighed, and ran a hand over his short black hair. The other hand fingered a small nameplate that read _Dr. Isshin Kurosaki_. “We couldn’t tell you, Ichigo. You had to figure it out for yourself.”

“We? You mean Urahara, don’t you?”

“Yes.” 

“Why would you let them do that to her? She’s in an _insane asylum_ , Dad. They’ve drugged her and taken her family away.” Ichigo choked slightly, his anger suddenly dissipating. “Why did you let them take away my memories of her?” 

Isshin’s voice was level, but Ichigo could see the conflict in his father’s eyes. “You know very well falling in love with humans is forbidden, Ichigo. It is also forbidden for those of us knowledgeable of the events to say anything.”

“You should have broken the law! She _searched_ for me! And now she probably thinks she’s insane…” He rubbed his arm in the same place as her tattoo.

“Ichigo, look at me.” Isshin placed his elbows on the desk. “Unless a wolf finds its soulmate _twice_ , the Council forbids human and wolf unions.”

Silence stretched for half a minute, and suddenly Ichigo’s face cleared. “You found a loophole.”

He nodded. “Urahara kept track of her. I studied the laws surrounding your situation. We couldn’t make it seem hurried. I wanted you to go after her sooner, but Urahara said we needed to wait. You were just enlisted as a part of the team searching asylums for cases involving werewolf attacks – how would it look if you’d immediately found her?” 

Ichigo swallowed and nodded reluctantly. “It would’ve been too easy for them to take her away again.” 

“Exactly. You never knew her last name, but Urahara knew she was the sister of the high-profiler Byakuya Kuchiki. So I had to tell you that a doctor was hushing up a particularly interesting case concerning someone’s sister with the cover that they were wondering when she would be available for visitation. I only gave you the last name. After that, it was up to you to remember.”

“He knew her,” Ichigo whispered. “My wolf. We walked in and he kept telling me that she was familiar, but neither one of us could remember why.”

Isshin nodded. “I was hoping for as much. Now, have you taken care of the paperwork?”

“No. I was so mad I came straight here. I told Sanders she was leaving, but I haven’t faxed any papers or official notices.” 

“Good. Urahara has already signed, and we’ll fax it from my office here. I have all the paperwork ready.” 

“No wonder you wanted me to wear a wig to look like you.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t have that loud hair of yours everywhere. You’ll be recognized in a second. This way, everyone believes that I was in that asylum today, so when you get her out tonight no one can link it to us.”

Ichigo snorted. “I’m pretty sure that if anyone googles for someone with orange hair they’ll find out that I’m your son.”

“Ah, but remember you don’t technically exist.”

“True.” 

“I’m sorry, son,” Isshin said softly. “I wanted to tell you about it, but you can be very…impetuous. We would all be safer if we found a way to make it seem legitimate. If not, the Council could very well decide to take her life, and imprison both of us. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Did Byakuya Kuchiki actually contact you?”

“He did. Sanders had been calling him about Rukia’s improvement every two weeks when the calls suddenly stopped. After two months of trying to contact him, Sanders told him there were new developments, but wouldn’t answer any questions as to why she couldn’t see family or be released. Since I am a noted specialist, he gave me a call, asking me to check on his sister, and if need be, to move her to my clinic.”

“At least he was worried about her.”

Isshin nodded. “Ichigo, there is one other thing you must do. Sanders must not remain cognizant of your escape. He must not be able to recognize you.”

“Knock him out?”

His father smirked slightly. “Whatever you deem necessary.”

Slowly, a wide smile lifted the corners of Ichigo’s mouth.

-00- 

Rukia awoke slowly, her brain thick and foggy. A low growl resounded in her head as she realized Sanders must have put a few mild tranquilizers in her dinner. Carefully, she sat up, steadying herself quickly when her head spun. Even though she was groggy, her sense of smell heightened quickly. She tilted her head and glanced at the clock barely visible outside of her room.

It was nearly midnight and she could still smell Sanders’ presence in the clinic. How was that possible? She shouldn’t be able to smell anything past the sharp scent of Clorox wipes. But she could smell the guard outside of her room as well. She ran a hand through her hair, greasy and limp from so many days of not showering. Even her own nose wrinkled at her smell.

She stretched tiredly, her mind working overtime trying to flush the effects of the drugs. Rukia stood and moved around as best as she could. Within just a few minutes, her mind was clearer.

“Well, well,” Sanders’ voice blared into her room, and Rukia nearly fell with the effort to place her hands over her ears. It sounded as if Sanders had shouted into a megaphone right next to her ear. That had never been so loud before. “Look who’s awake,” he continued. “Seems like those tranquilizers I’ve put you on aren’t working so well anymore. We’ll have to remedy that. And if you think I’m letting that doctor take you away from here, think again, little werewolf,” he taunted.

Her heart dropped.

“Once this new drug is completed, the guard will be in to test it on you. Then you will be transferred to the Basement.”

Ice settled in her veins. She swallowed, and said with bravado she didn’t feel, “I won’t go down there.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say that Dr. Kurosaki would be coming for her – and she desperately hoped it was soon – but just barely caught herself. “My brother will wonder why you won’t let me see him. He’ll come looking for me.”

Sanders laughed cruelly. “Your brother hasn’t even called to check on you in four months.”

“You’re lying,” she said, but her voice sounded small.

Rat-man’s ringing laughter echoed around her room. “Be ready, Rukia. You’ll be transferred within the hour.”

The fear that pounded in her blood soon turned to rage. Who did this man think he was? He’d made a grave mistake by warning her of where she was going. When that guard came in to deliver the medication, she would fight. She would fight with every ounce of strength she had left. Somehow, her hearing was better – she could hear everything outside of her room. She could smell the people approaching her room even before she could hear them. Her body felt more fit than it had in months, and her muscles twitched, ready to fight.

There was no way Rat-man was going to get the jump on her. She’d play the part, but when that syringe got near her… Rukia’s limbs ached with anticipation. The voice she’d so often heard in her head was silent, but right now it actually felt like a separate entity, something whose own rage and determination matched Rukia’s so well that its doubled force nearly brought her to her knees.

Even if Dr. Kurosaki couldn’t get here in time, she’d try to fight her way out. There was no way Sanders was going to keep her in the Basement. No one ever returned from that place, and recently, she’d been hearing screams resonate through her dreams. They’d woken her from dead sleeps, and no one but her seemed to be able to hear it. She’d even asked the guards if they heard it, and they’d brushed her off and looked at her as if she were crazy. No doubt they believed she was.

However, she believed that they couldn’t hear anything. For some reason her hearing was sharper, and those screams were for her ears only.

Her body shook. They needed to come with that medication soon or she would burst. She would scratch at the walls, slam into the door and scream until this rage and anticipation passed. It was near uncontainable.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and in walked two white suits followed by two guards carrying beating sticks. Rukia nearly snarled. They thought that was enough to hold her? They obviously underestimated her. She almost smiled at the thought, and felt the entity shudder in anticipation. It wanted to fight. It wanted to maim. It would not be caged. Rukia echoed that sentiment.

_Let them come. We will defeat them._

_Yes,_ Rukia whispered, the thought in her mind almost a release of sorts. Pain lanced through her arms and her head, and she cried out.

Taking it as a cue, the white coats neared, one reaching out to grab her while the other held the syringe poised. She could _hear_ them, listen to their steady heartbeats and feel the vibrations as they stepped closer.

The hairs on her arms stood on end as a gloved hand came within an inch of her skin.

With a cry of rage she lashed out, her hand sweeping out and catching the man under the chin. She didn’t pause, and struck out at the other one, slamming him into a wall. Her hand latched on to the syringe, and she viciously stabbed the needle into the man’s chest.

Blood leaked onto his stainless coat as he slid down the wall, the heavy tranquilizers in the syringe knocking him out. She looked around, panting, and stumbled back as she looked at the other man. Blood flecked out in every direction, and congealed around his neck in an ever-increasing puddle.

Rukia glanced at her left hand, choking at seeing the blood coating her fingers. Her nails were longer, and under them were pieces of skin that matched the rake marks on the man’s torn throat. She knew there was no way he was still alive.

The guards took advantage of her distraction and grabbed her arms, hauling her out of the room. She struggled as best as she could, desperately digging her heels as she spotted the Basement doors ahead.

_They won’t take me. They won’t! I won’t let them!_

A vicious snarl rippled out of her throat, startling one guard and allowing her to sweep out a leg and catch him in the back of the knees. He fell heavily, but did not relinquish her arm, and dragged her down with him. She grunted as the other guard came with her and landed on top of her. Panic grasped at her chest. Sandwiched between the two men would be even harder to escape, and fear of the Basement writhed like a living being inside of her.

With a desperate cry she resumed her struggles, and slowly but surely she felt one of the guards’ grips loosen. Setting all of her focus on him, Rukia tried to kick him and hit him – anything. The guard underneath her grasped at her, attempting to hold her down. Her muscles weakened from fighting for so long. She pushed them harder.

“Get off!” she screamed.

The guards grunted, and one finally managed to grab her arm.

“No!”

“Rukia!”

She barely heard the person call her name. Survival instincts kicked in, and she knew that in this moment, she really was fighting for her life. She would disintegrate if they managed to get her even an inch past the Basement doors. She could see it: her soul finally giving up, her mind finally losing its grip on reality, and then she would be stuck here, screaming like all those other people that couldn’t be heard.

Suddenly, the guard on top of her flew off, and she renewed her efforts. Wrenching her arm free, she rolled over and her fist flew, clipping the second guard under the chin. His head hit the floor with a sickening crack, but her adrenaline was too high to notice. Rukia forced herself to her feet and whirled around, fists up and growling.

It took a couple of seconds for her to process what her eyes were seeing. Standing in front of her, hands held in surrender, was Ichigo. She would recognize that orange hair anywhere. His yellowed eyes roamed over her frantically, and his body shook with effort to hold himself away from her. He’d come for her. He was _here_. She sagged.

“Ichigo,” Rukia sighed, reaching out to him.

He rushed for her, his hair brushing against her face when he crushed her to him. She couldn’t stop the sobs that rose in her throat. She clutched at him, almost unable to believe that after two years of being called crazy he was truly _real_.

“Oh my God. You’re here.” She wasn’t crazy. _She wasn’t crazy_. Ichigo was real, his smell invading her nostrils with that same earthy scent she remembered from so long ago.

Ichigo said nothing, merely held her tighter. He pulled back and moved a hand to cup her face. She nearly begged him to say something, but from the way his throat worked and his hands shook, Rukia had a feeling he was desperately trying to remain human.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she murmured. Her hands searched him, running over every part of him she could reach. He looked the same as ever, and she couldn’t help but smile. He’d come to rescue her.

“So did I,” he said difficultly. His voice was rough, distorted, evidence of his struggle. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, a cry of surprise reached them from somewhere down the hall. 

Sanders. 

He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Perhaps he thought he had. She had told him about Ichigo, about his orange hair many times, and not once had he believed her. Rukia’s tears dried as all her stored anger bubbled to the surface.

“You’re not real,” he protested, pointing a finger at Ichigo. “You can’t be. She’s insane.” By calling her crazy, Sanders seemed to come back to himself. Anger lit his face and turned it an ugly puce. “You can’t take her! She’s mine. She’s staying with me until I squeeze every last cent out of her I can.”

Beside her, Rukia heard Ichigo snarl. His arms snapped, and she knew he’d lost the battle to contain his wolf. He released a guttural groan, his chin smacking his chest as his spine abruptly arched up. She winced as all of the bones in his body broke and reformed, and stepped away to give him room.

Ichigo’s head whipped towards her, his eyes almost frantically searching for hers. She wanted to reach out to him, to ease the pain she saw on the face that was only halfway through the transformation. He grunted again, his spine somehow snapping higher as his snout lengthened.

Once started, shifting finished quickly. The hair sprang through Ichigo’s skin, and suddenly the wolf was there. The animal shook its fur and looked at her.

Her memory of him did not do him justice – especially the memory of his coat. It looked silky to the touch, and a mix of rusty timber wolf with a dash of shepherd. He was longer than she was tall, and his shoulders almost reached hers. Granted, she just barely breached five feet, but he was still enormous.  She remembered Ichigo saying something about weight to size ratio, but put it from her mind as her eyes met his.

Something stirred from beneath her skin. It prickled and itched, reminiscent of the pain she’d felt in her arms before the white suits had attempted to tranquilize her. The entity pushed against some sort of barrier, and Rukia winced at the pain that lanced sharply through her mind. It struggled, panting. Looking into Ichigo’s eyes, she realized it felt…longing.

Rukia’s attention flew to Sanders at his shout of horror.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered. Somehow, she heard it. The doctor scrambled back, attempting to run away, but Ichigo’s gaze had latched onto the psychologist once he’d spoken. With a snarl of fury Ichigo launched himself at Sanders.

He’d only taken a dozen or so steps before Sanders fell from the effort. Ichigo was on him in a second, roaring into the man’s face. Rukia rushed over, aware of the smell that suddenly accosted her nostrils, but paid it no mind. Ichigo looked ready to tear Sanders’ face off. She called his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear her. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of the terrified man’s face.

Hesitantly, she reached out. She had only touched Ichigo in this form once, and that time he’d nearly died. This time, he was very much alive and dangerous. Her fingertips just barely brushed the tip of his ruff, and he looked at her so quickly she wondered how he didn’t get whiplash. She pushed her hand further into his smooth coat, and exhaled shakily.

“Don’t, Ichigo.” Slowly, she touched him with her other hand, stroking her fingers through his fur. He leaned into her slightly. Gradually, his snarling stopped, his lips covered his fangs, and his ears relaxed. His tongue darted out and swiped at her left arm, directly over her tattoo. With a warning chuff at Sanders, Ichigo removed his monstrous paws from the man’s chest.

Rukia sighed in relief when Ichigo butted her stomach with his head. She really didn’t know that much about animals, and many could be dangerous. She’d seen what Ichigo was able to do, and while she wasn’t afraid of him per say, it was still wise to be cautious.

A moan rumbled in the wolf’s throat as he brought his nose up to sniff around her shoulders. She snorted when his cold, wet nose poked her neck, and continued to bury her hands in his luxurious fur. He whined again.

Movement in the corner of her eye made her muscles suddenly spring to life. Rukia ducked under Ichigo’s neck, pulling her arm back and tightening her fist. Adrenaline pumped through her body, and with strength she didn’t know she had, she plunged her fist into Sanders’ face. The force snapped his head to the side, and the crunch of bone echoed into her ears. Her hand ached, but she flexed her fingers, knowing her bones weren’t broken.

Rukia panted, her body suddenly feeling weak. A nose bumped her from behind, and she turned. She exhaled his name, and couldn’t resist the urge to bury her hands in his fur. A contented rumble bubbled through his throat as her nails scratched beneath the ruff. He gazed at her, his yellow eyes too human for her to mistake his ability to reason in this form. His tongue darted out, gently lapping her arm with the tattoo, and she wrapped her arms around Ichigo’s neck. As best he could, he hugged her back.

Suddenly, the wolf whined painfully, and the shift back was just as fast as before. His clothes had ripped completely when he’d shifted before, and Ichigo now stood naked in front of her. She tried to catch his eyes, but they were on Sanders. 

His lips pulled back in another snarl. “I can’t believe he was going to try to tranq me.”

“He wanted to keep you to study,” Rukia whispered, eyeing the syringe that Sanders, even in unconsciousness, gripped in his right hand.

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, and lurched forward, as if making a sudden command decision. He wrenched the syringe from Sanders’ hand and none too gently stuck the needle in the man’s arm.

“This will keep him out of it until people find him in the morning. When do they get here?”

“Assistants are here at six. Doctors come at seven. Visitors are not allowed until mid-morning.”

He nodded, processing the information. “Good. They’ll find him. We’d best get out of here soon, though. There are some others with me. We need to get to them.” He grinned a bit. “They also have a second pair of clothes for me.” She snorted as he stood, and Ichigo motioned to her. “Get on my back. I’m faster, and we need to put as much distance between you and this place as possible.”

“Of course.” Rukia swallowed. He was curt and business-like, so different than he was moments before, but there was no doubt she trusted him. He needed to be that way to make sure they got out. 

He squatted. She jumped as best as she could, and before she could judge whether it worked or not, Ichigo had hooked his hands under her knees and sprinted off. Rukia draped her arms over her neck.

As they rushed through the hallways, Rukia suddenly remembered something, and a large grin cracked her face.

“You know what I’ll always remember?” she said quietly, knowing Ichigo’s sharp hearing would pick up her words. “Sanders definitely shit his pants when you ran for him.”

Ichigo’s bark of laughter echoed through the hallways.

-00-

“So? How did everything go?”

Ichigo pulled himself out of his reverie and looked across at his father sitting in his leather arm chair. The TV droned in the background, volume low. Ichigo shifted slightly, and a small sound of protest reached his ears. He looked down and smiled. Rukia was asleep, curled up as close to him as she could get on the love seat. Her hands clutched his shirt. His chest tightened. He’d almost lost her forever simply because he hadn’t remembered her. His wolf wanted her even closer, even though there was no way she _could_ be closer. One of his hands rested on his thigh; he fought with the other, making it relax on her waist instead of holding her just as tightly as she held him.

He sighed. “Renji and Hisagi did their jobs.” One of Rukia’s hands moved, letting go of his shirt, and he couldn’t help it. He grasped her hand with his. When she latched on to it, his heart fluttered. Ichigo cleared his throat. “Renji destroyed any hard record they had of her. Hisagi hacked in and destroyed their electronic files.”

Isshin nodded. “What about the memories?”

“Didn’t look like a lot of them knew she was there. She killed both of the white suits that attended her. I killed one guard and Renji and Shuhei cleaned up and took care of the others. There’s an intern that attended her, but Sanders kept very strict notes and rules apparently. The intern was never informed of her name; he simply took the night shifts so Sanders could sleep. We don’t think it’s necessary to try to erase any memories; he probably won’t recognize her… Do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Isshin murmured, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Did he work around her a lot?”

“Not that Shuhei could find. A little more in the recent months, I think.”

“It might be safe to check him out, just in case.”

Ichigo nodded. Rukia mumbled something incoherent next him, and Ichigo suddenly remembered something that had bothered him back in the interview room. “Dad,” he started, voice low. “She said something about hearing a voice in her head. And when I was rescuing her, she punched Sanders hard enough to break his cheek. The werewolf that dragged her into the alley bit her – she’s got the scars. After, they healed as if she’d already shifted. What—How… How has she not shifted yet? She obviously hadn’t since Sanders let me come see her.”

For a few long minutes, Isshin was silent. “There have only been a few similar to this. We came to the conclusion that the possibility of changing, or the trauma of the attack was too much for the person’s mind to handle, and their brains actually suppressed their wolf as a mode of protection if you will. Like reppressed memories of a child – their mind protects them from the trauma. When did Rukia say she started hearing the voice?”

“I think she said a few months after she was with Sanders.”

“Very interesting,” Isshin mumbled, his eyes staring at the floor but not seeing anything. “Perhaps after she was first bitten, her wolf didn’t appear because she was with you at the time. She was so busy running with you that her wolf never had a chance. Perhaps… if she started to doubt her sanity while she was kept in the asylum. That was the door that allowed her wolf to finally show itself. But this is conjecture – psychology can be a convoluted subject.”

“So… She hasn’t changed simply because of _force of mind_?”

“Repressed memories, Ichigo. Her mind protecting her from the trauma as best it can. It’s my only theory, but it’s a potentially sound one since it _has_ happened once before.”

“This is insane,” Ichigo muttered. “What happens now?”

“Well, there’s no way to reverse it,” Isshin sighed. “I bet she didn’t change in there because both her and her wolf wanted to keep themselves protected. Her wolf knew if it tried to get out, Rukia would never leave that asylum.” The older man held his hands up. “I don’t know, Ichigo. It’s all merely conclusive. But, now that she knows she’s a werewolf, her wolf can no longer be contained. She’ll have to shift by the next full moon. Besides, it recognized you. From the little we’ve talked, it seems like her wolf was trying to force her to shift in that hallway so it could be close to yours.”

“I’m just glad I have her back. I’m glad I remember her,” Ichigo whispered.

“I knew you would,” Isshin said, his eyes staring straight through Ichigo. “Memories with any type of emotional connection can never be fully erased. I knew your wolf would recognize her the moment he felt her.” He exhaled heavily. “Ichigo, I am so, so sorry that it had to happen to you, son, but…you understand?”

His father’s face was alight with hope, and while Ichigo was frustrated, he knew he understood. “I do. I don’t like it, but I understand why you did it. I would have, too, if I were in your position. This way… I accidentally found her, recognized my soulmate _twice_ , and now she’s no longer human. She hasn’t really been human the whole time she was in that place. They can’t argue with that.” 

“No. They can’t.”

“Dad, I…” Ichigo cleared his throat softly. “Thanks.”

Isshin nodded, his eyes moist.

“…asylum. Resident assistants came at six to find a few guards—”

“Hey, Dad, turn that up.” Ichigo looked intently at the screen as his father increased the volume.

“A few assistants from the local asylum report that while all rooms should be filled, one was discovered empty. Next to it was Dr. Richard Sanders, a prominent psychologist that claimed excellent breakthroughs were being made in the study of mental illnesses – specifically believing fantastical realities. Assistants found him unharmed save for a broken jaw and cracked cheekbone. He appeared slightly sedated, and one of the orderlies took this video here.”

A grainy cell phone video played, and Ichigo saw Sanders standing from where they’d left him, his eyes wide and wild. He was screaming, exclaiming about a werewolf that “swear to God” had changed right in front of him. It had attacked him. The video changed as one of the assistants pulled out a syringe to sedate him.

“You didn’t.” Isshin’s face was a mix of shock and exhilaration.

“While some claim the cell was empty,” the reporter continued, “police found no reports of anyone missing or occupying that cell. Every file matched a person staying in the facility. However, an investigation will still take place. Unfortunately, due to his mental state at the present and the force with which the medical team had to handle Dr. Sanders, he is off of the board and will be replaced with the second top doctor in residency – Dr. Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Dr. Kurotsuchi says he will perform extensive tests on Dr. Sanders to help him understand what happened, and why he seemingly had an unprovoked mental breakdown. I am Rangiku Matsumoto for…”

Her voice trailed as Isshin decreased the volume. His face still held the same look. “You didn’t,” he said again.

Ichigo grinned. “I did.”

“Damn.”

As quietly as they could, both men laughed.

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


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